Du' Dera
by LadyZotalot
Summary: Dick can't always hide his painful past from him teammates. The five friends who connect the dots but don't tell him and the one friend who does. Du' Dera is a Romani phrase of comfort.
1. Outline of a Bat

**Queen Residence, 2007**

A warm glow reflects off the dangling crystals of the grand chandelier as the young man moodily enters the ball room. Each guest at the charity function looks at place with the surrounding luxury. Roy drinks the scene in. An elegant woman in a stark white dress takes dainty sips of red wine from Bordeaux stemware. An up and coming entrepreneur schmoozes with an elderly gentleman of a vast media empire. With a purposeful stride, a servant maneuvers gracefully through cliques of guests to reach the beckoning host of the party. The host is none other than Queen Industries' Oliver Queen.

The young man scowls as the host catches his eyes from across the spacious room. Queen blinks away from the boy and returns to amusing the assorted guests clinging nearby him. Roy folds his arms and leans against a priceless vase. He would do anything to be anywhere but here.

He'd rather be at home with Dinah at her condo. He'd rather be at home on the reservation with Brave Bow. He'd rather be at home living with his dad far way from Star City. He can't be at any of these places. Not since Dinah and Ollie made up yet again. Not since Brave Bow's illness caught up to him. Not since Dad died in that fire. Roy knows he is stuck here with Ollie until the four years that will make him legally an adult pass.

He smirks at his legal guardian. At the moment, Ollie is doing a beautiful job of pretending he isn't bothered that Roy is one false move away from cracking the porcelain vase. It's probably a Ming, or a 18th century Qing, or a 'who the hell cares as long as it's expensive'. Roy grows bored with his mind game as he sees Queen begin to move away from his guests and make a beeline for him. Queen is stopped by throngs of people along the way, his journey pain painstakingly slow for such a short distance. Roy has time to make himself scarce.

Roy approaches the nearest guest and introduces himself. He nods along with the woman's blathering pleasantries. She rolls her brunette curls around her red press on nails as she explains how excited she was to come and how much she owes Bruce for letting her be his plus one. _Bruce?_

"Wait, you came with Bruce Wayne?" he asks her. Her grin gleams with pride.

"Oh, yes. Me and Brucie are inseparable. When we met at that art show last April, well, I knew he'd call me back..." Roy tunes her out as he watches Queen extricate himself from a boorish gentleman with a constantly waging finger. Roy needs to move more quickly or else he'll find himself talking with Oliver. He'd rather not talk with him right now. He'd really rather not.

"Miss Chase, could you direct me to Mr. Wayne? I know Mr. Queen would love to have a chat with him," he tells the prattling brunette. Her face falls. Roy smiles. "Queen would love to speak to you both, I mean. He's always the proper host." Roy laughs. "And he has impeccable taste in conversationalists."

Miss Chase pauses as she unwinds her pointer finger from her ringlets. Suddenly taciturn, she frowns as she looks for the right words to say. "Mr. Wayne is...looking for that little boy somewhere. I honestly haven't seen Bruce for over an hour," she admits with great reluctance. This wasn't part Roy's plan, but he is flexible.

"Someone is missing? How terrible. Look, here comes Mr. Queen. You explain the situation to him and I'll go see if I can find Mr. Wayne or..."

"Richard. He's eight I think. About this short. Dark haired," she offers. Miss Chase rubs her lips together. "He's very...small." Roy wants to ask who this kid is and why Bruce Wayne brought him to their party. Spotting Queen a few yards away, Roy dismisses himself without asking her his questions.

Roy, as he rounds the corner to the balcony, catches Miss Chase pulling Oliver aside by the arm. Ollie's green eyes reluctantly leave Roy and reach the hapless brunette. Roy lets out the heavy sigh that he didn't know he was holding in.

There is one benefit of being stuck in Ollie's estate over the years: he knows all the good hiding places. Roy, when he was younger, found each of the the oddly roomy closets, out of sight corners, overstuffed storage rooms, dusty libraries, and unused nooks and crannies.

The redhead walks down the shadowed corridors that lead to some of his favorite hiding spots. Roy, finding nothing and no one on the first floor, makes his way to the next.

Although Roy would never admit it, he fondly recollects the days when he was ten and Dinah Lance was six-teen. Dinah was one hell of a baby-sitter. Unlike Ollie (who would give up after fifteen minutes and would let Roy stay hidden until he realized no one was coming for him), Dinah always kept looking for Roy no matter how long it took. The only person better than Roy for finding Bruce Wayne's lost kid would be Dinah.

Unfortunately, Ollie likes Dinah enough to not force her to come to these mind numbing affairs. Roy figures that if he was a woman, not to mention legal in the state of California, then he'd have a better shot wriggling his way out of coming too.

Roy opens the door at the end of the twisting hallway. He ducks his head inside the room. Rows of furniture are covered in painting tarps. He ignores looking beneath the covers; instead, Roy walks over to the heavy draperies and pulls them aside to reveal a bay window which overlooks a wooded area. Outside the window, small bats swoop down to pick berries from the bushes or eat moths from the skies.

The little boy sitting on the window-seat watches the animals wearily. Richard lids his eyes and lays his head against the window. He speaks to Roy in a small voice.

"I thought Bruce would find me first." Roy shrugs as he takes a seat beside the raven haired boy.

"I'm just that good, kid." Richard looks up and snorts. "Okay, fine. Mr. Wayne doesn't have my years of experience with this estate. He would, understandably, take a longer time than me," Roy reasons. He pulls his feet up onto the window-seat and draws his knees close to his chest the way Richard has.

"Why are you hiding, kid?" Roy asks.

"I'm not hiding and I'm not a kid," he says desperately. He blows heavily onto the window and draws pictures in the steam. "My name's Dick and you're Roy."

"Yeah. How did you know that?" he asks. Dick clicks his tongue against his cheek.

"Magic," the younger boy claims. Roy lifts an eyebrow.

"Sure, whatever. Not that I disbelieve you, Dick, your magical abilities aside, but the definition of hiding is when Bruce doesn't know where you are and can't find you in an hour. So you're hiding." Roy blows his own cloud of steam onto the windowpane and draws an outline of a bat.

"Also, drawing is for kids, not to mention running away. That makes you a kid, kid. So you've lied about two things so far. I'm going to assume the magic isn't true as well," Roy says flatly.

Dick doesn't respond at first. He looks to Roy's crude depiction of the bat signal symbol and then to Roy's upturned brows. Dick breaks out laughing. Roy doesn't know why the kid is so suddenly overcome with giggles, but finds that Dick's brand of laughter is particularly contagious and joins in. The two boys laugh until they are red in the face and stop to take choked breaths.

"Why are we laughing, Dick?" Roy gets out between hasty gulps of air. Dick just shakes his head.

"You. Bruce. Everything. I don't know." He sighs. "I am hiding. I thought I'd feel better if I could just disappear. I guess that's a really juvenile thought, huh?"

"Nah, Dick. Sometimes you have to think things through without everyone else getting in your way. I'd know the feeling. Why do you think I've come looking for you instead of staying at the party?"

"I guess you're right. I just feel like I'm being silly," Dick whispers. He clears his throat and raises his chin. "I wanted Bruce to know I could handle something...challenging. Bruce, well, he doesn't realize how bad I need this. I can't be protected like a baby anymore. Not after what happened. I won't let other people fight my battles." His eyes flicker towards the fading outline of a bat on the windowpane. "I won't let Bruce fight my battles," he pointedly asserts.

Roy grabs Dick's small, tight fists and pulls apart the curling knuckles.

"I know that there's a time when your guardians are wrong and I know that there's a time to channel your anger, Dick," Roy tells him as he lets go of his hands. Richard stares at his opened palms. "But I just hope that you don't have to be angry with Bruce instead of whatever you're truly fighting."

Dick chokes on a bitter laugh and buries his face his into his hands.

"Why does it have to be so hard, Roy? What's the point of knowing...what I know... if I can't help?"

"I'm not an optimist, kid. The only way to get what you want is to prove it to yourself. Everyone else will face the truth then; at least, if they have any sense. That's how life works."

Dick wipes his nose on his sleeve. Roy notes the pricey attire but doesn't scold the gloomy boy.

"How old are you, Dick?"

"I'm nine," he says. "Does that make me a baby? Huh, Roy?" Dick's blue eyes waver.

"I'm fourteen, so, yeah, I guess it should in my eyes." Roy unfolds his legs. He pulls himself off the seat and stands tall. "That's not what I think, though." Dick's eyes flash with hope.

"It's not?" Roy shakes his head. He holds out one calloused hand to Dick. Dick takes it and pulls himself to his feet.

"I think you are one of the strongest people I know," Roy reassures. "For all my bravo, I don't know what to do with myself. Dick, if you're sure of what you want, then I'm positive you can do it."

"Roy?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a good friend," Dick all but whispers. Roy smiles, perhaps the first time genuinely all night.

"Right back at you, Dick." The stay standing, comfortable remaining silent together. Eventually, Roy wants to ask the question left unsaid.

"Dick?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you fighting?" Dick clenches his hands.

"Powerlessness."


	2. Memories of a Past

**A/N:**

**Flashbacks are just in****_ italics_**** without any '"quotation marks".**** Speaking words over the telepathic link is written thusly:** _"Dialogue," _dialogue tag.

**Dick is part Roma and speaks Romani. Romanians speak primarily Romanian, but the minority population of Roma people in Romania still has Romani speakers. Your first language is the language you would process your thoughts in. All of this info dump will make sense after you read the chapter. Sorry!**

This chapter was one sentence in my outline. Apparently, the space a chapter takes in an outline is not proportional to its the length. I don't know if the other chapters will be longer or shorter as I haven't written them yet.

* * *

><p><strong>Gotham City, 2011<strong>

Her green flesh is shadowed by flashes of light as she floats upwards away from the flames below. The red hot heat of the fire makes Miss Martian's eyes dry and itchy. Balling her hands into fists, she aggressively rubs her closed eyes. Her attempts to sooth her eyes inflict more damage as the black soot and grease that cover her palms pass beneath her eyelids. Miss Martian had forgotten her hands were so dirty. In the grand scheme of things it hadn't seemed to matter. She opens her irradiated, watering eyes when a determined voice breaks through the static on the comm system.

"Miss M, what is your status? The mind-link went blank." Aqualad's voice is replaced with the sounds of heavy panting and falling debris. "We need to reestablish a connection; the comms are too volatile," he warns.

Miss Martian nods her understanding before quickly remembering that no one can see her. She squints at the fiery structure below and tries to find her teammates in the chaos. She finds no one. All she can see is a mess of red and orange trailed by streams of black smoke. Remembering her orders, she attempts to clear her mind in preparation of restoring the mind-link.

M'gann tunes out the world around her, focusing on the sound of her own heartbeat. Heroes have to make tough choices. She cannot help if she cannot think straight. No one on the team, in fact, can help if she doesn't calm down and fix the telepathic link. She sharply forces away the many pleas and moans that call out from the minds of the injured and lost. Each wayward thought slices into her concentration with the force of a swinging ax.

"Kaldur, I don't know if I can do this. There's too much panic. It's...it's _over_whelming me," the mind-reader woefully mutters into her earpiece. Aqualad's only response is continual static. M'gann, hoping to prevent a frustrated wail, clamps down hard on her red lips. She thinks this experience can't get worse. The comm line clicks and a new voice speaks past the interference and surrounding noise.

"_Over_whelming, huh? How can we fix that for you, Miss M?" Robin asks, his voice falsely buoyant. The redhead arranges her thoughts.

"I need the ambulances to move their patients down the block," Miss Martian orders.

"On it," Artemis replies. M'gann catches the sudden flash of green that darts to a nearby emergency vehicle.

"Can the police enforce a wider perimeter around the hotel building? All these worried people don't need to be so close."

"I can take care of that," Superboy states. The teen jumps out of the fifth story window of a suite with a little girl held tightly in his embrace. Her small arms are wrapped around the tattered remains of his shirt. The pavement makes a loud crunch when Superboy lands. Pieces of the black and red shirt flutter to the ground when the crying girl loosens her hold around the clone. Superboy, after placing the child with a nurse, approaches the plainclothes officer who appears to be the ranking official.

"What else do you need, beautiful?" Kid Flash asks between the cracks in the connection.

Miss Martian sights him exiting the building with a gaggle of children. The tear-stained kids take small handfuls of Wally's costume in their grubby fingers as Kid Flash drags them along to safety. M'gann touches down, her boots resting gently on the ground besides the other redhead.

"I'll take these kids, KF. You re-enter the building. Direct those who are lost to a safe exit, but don't lead them out yourself unless they are children or elderly."

"Or injured. Right. I get it. Done in a flash."

M'gann finds the strength to smile as the children remove their hands from Wally's outfit and instead grab hold of her cape. She shape-shifts and her cape elongates into a long rope. The exhausted children don't seem to care, each one following along with this new outcome without alarm. By the rope, she leads the children away from the burning hotel.

Feeling significantly calmer, M'gann sets up her psychic link, but only with Aqualad and Robin included.

_"How is this?"_

_"Hearing you loud and clear,"_ Robin thinks.

_"Good work, Megan,"_ Aqualad projects. _"Will the others be able to join in after the tasks you ordered are completed?"_

_"I think I can handle it. I'm sorry this is so hard. I should be better than this."_

_"I said you're doing well, Megan. Do not doubt me," Aqualad orders. "We are all learning as fast as we can. You have nothing to blame yourself for."_

M'gann sends the two boys her feeling of thanks.

The Martian, a minute later, links up the rest of the team after they return to the building ready for action. Each teen, communicating their actions over the mind-link, goes off to work in a different wing of the hotel.

_"Bossman, is it just me or is this fire suspicious?"_ Kid Flash asks.

_"I agree it has the markings of an arson, Kid Flash,"_ Aqualad replies.

_"It's more than that. It's a coverup,"_ Robin claims.

_"Explain."_ Aqualad and the rest of the team feel the word instead of simply broadcasting it.

_"Superboy says that the police are uneasy about an ambassador who was staying in this hotel. He hasn't been found yet,"_ Robin worries.

_"He was the target and the rest of the fire is a distraction,"_ Artemis infers. _"What country is he an ambassador for? We could link the arsonist to this attack if we know why this ambassador was targeted."_

_"Romania."_ Robin scrolls down the list of information projected from his wrist._ "Ambassador Alexandru Dalca has been trying to uproot loopholes in the international Romanian banking system which criminals are most likely using to hide their money in the country."_

_"Miss Martian, can you find the ambassador?"_ Aqualad asks.

_"I can look for the feelings he would be projecting if he knows he's the target. I will have to drop the telepathic link between us for a while."_

As each of her teammates send her a sense of understanding, she releases their minds from her link. Only Robin remains connected. M'gann feels his mind wander.

_"Look for the mind thinking in Romani,_" Robin says. "_It will be easier to find his mind when he's different than other guests,"_ he reasons.

_"I do not know what Romani is," _Miss Martian admits.

_"Romani is Dalca's first language. I can translate for you. If I stay linked would I be able to help you find his mind?"_

_"Yes. That would work."_

Miss Martian sends out a tendril to the minds still lost within the fire and, with Robin's help, finds the mind speaking in the foreign tongue. Robin latches on to the ambassador's mind immediately even though they only pass it briefly in their telepathic sweep. Robin's mind unwillingly lets out a memory as he is overcome by emotion.

_High above the ground, you dare to look down. There is no net to catch you if you fall. You can name this familiar sensation. It can only be called exhilaration. Your small hands grasp firmly around the bar of a trapeze as your tiny body lunches forward into the open air. Two feet leave their anchoring atop the metal platform and take flight. Who says man wasn't made to fly? Letting go of your worries, you seize the power found in proving the uninspired bores wrong._

The memory drops away sharply as Robin throws up a mental barrier. M'gann's body pumps with adrenaline from Robin's misplaced memory, but she doesn't comment. She ignores the accidental release. Feeling Robin's worry, she send him back a memory of her own.

_You are what is considered a toddler on Mars. Your skin is the young green of a baby leaf. Eventually, this smooth coloring will fade with age. You work hard to block your parents from your mind. They are amused by your attempts and you feel their bemusement as if it is your own. Finally, you find a moment where you are alone. It startles you, this new emptiness within your mind. You have never been by yourself, the only presence in your own mind before. You have never been away from the awareness of a loved one which melds with your own until both of you become interchangeable, fractional pieces that make up one soul. Your mind flares with panic and you grab your parents back into your mind. There is a ripping pain from the sudden rejoining._

Robin's mind attempts to jerk away from this feeling of loneliness. A bursting of emotion swells behind the surface of his mind and he pushes it down hard. M'gann is left with the impression that Robin has experienced the feeling of solitude vividly in his own life. This isn't what Megan was trying to accomplish. She moves to the part of the memory she initially wanted to share.

_Your parents forgive you for your carelessness. They know how it was growing up. They send you their memories of similar experiences when they first disconnected from their own parents. You are gladdened that they understand you. You are not alone. You are all joined together by common experiences._

Robin's mind is loosely connected to Megan's. He holds himself beneath his mental barrier like a child concealed beneath his blanket as he pretends that the monsters in his closet will not find him if he hides.

_You dare to let go of your parent's support once more, knowing they will be there to catch you if you fall into loneliness again. The separation is still new and terrifying, but it is also freeing. You need to be away from the nosy inquires of your parents in order to go through with this. You want it so badly._

_You let go of them fully and then let go of the red soil underneath your uncovered toes. You float silently into the air. You feel the probing tendrils of your parents' alarm. They attempt to order you to stop, but you block out their thoughts._

_You lift off and shoot into the hazy horizon. You throw your hands into the air and stretch, reaching for the clouds in the sky. Nothing holds you down. You are free. You are living. You bask in the glow of the midday sun. You can name this familiar sensation. It can only be called exhilaration. You were made to fly!_

Robin forgives M'gann as he recognizes that this is the emotion she wanted to share with him. He sees the point. He crawls out from under his security blanket and finds that the monster is only a baggy sweater hanging lopsided atop a pile of dirty laundry. His mind rolls around in the feeling of true weightlessness and he smiles. He composes himself and returns to his mission.

_"We should go get Mr. Dalca. Let's find his mind again. I'm ready,"_ Robin reassures.

Miss Martian sends him her agreement. She scans for the mind she met with moments ago. She doesn't find it.

_"Robin, I'm worried he's..."_

_"No. Keep looking,"_ he barks.

They search for Ambassador Dalca for far too long without finding him.

_"He could just be knocked out. We should go look and see if any paramedics have him,"_ M'gann says.

Robin agrees resignedly. He clings to the hope that the ambassador is still alive.

Miss Martian finds Robin's position and swoops him up. She flies him to the front of the building. There is a commotion. A circle of people surround...something. Robin cannot make out what it is. He notices that Megan's mind has disconnected from his own. She is hiding from him what she knows from the minds of the emergency personnel.

Robin's mouth is dry. Miss Martian sets him down among the crowd of people. Robin doesn't notice that the rest of the team is also in the crowd. The nurse holding the little girl who Superboy saved earlier is covered in tears and snot. The girl wails, a stream of muffled foreign words falling from her chapped lips.

Robin evaluates the scene. The little girl is family to the deceased. She is an eyewitness to the death. Mr. Dalca is the body. He jumped from the building. Robin eyes the mechanical device that the cop in charge inspects. Commissioner Gordon feels the gaze upon him. He hands the device to Robin without a word.

It's a holographic chip. Mr. Dalca would have seen the image of a hero offering a hand to fly him out the window to safety. The hero was never there. The Romanian ambassador fell seven stories and died before he hit the pavement.

Robin's breathing heavies. His minimal patches of skin open to view are noticeably pale. His ice blue eyes bore into the little girl, Mr. Dalca's daughter. He wants to reach out to her but cannot find the sense to move.

M'gann feels the powerful failing of his concentration and, painfully, feels the moment his mind lurches and betrays him. His mind screams. A memory forces its way into M'gann's mind.

_Be free. You can do anything if you put your mind to it. Be proud. You are one of the lucky few who know what it is to truly live. Be sure. You trust the other aerialist swinging towards you. Be understood. We are free together, both knowing this special secret of life and relishing in it. Be loved. Your father and mother smile to you and to each other._

_Strains of red hair loosen out from a pony tail in the gust created by your mother's swinging. You let go of your bar. You are falling. You could die. You are living. This is living. You laugh. Her hands take yours as you knew they would and soon you are returned to the high platform on the other side of the vast tent._

_Your parents begin their next trick as partners. They use a new trapeze with a longer bar and brighter colors. You picked out the robin red rhinestones that dangle from twin lanyards on each side of the bar._

_You do not see it in slow motion. It happens in the batting of an eyelash. You had looked to the crowd momentarily and blinked at the bright lights suddenly flashing in your eyes. You returned your gaze just in time to see the fall._

_Your father's finger bristle against your mother. She tries to catch him but she is falling now too. The trapeze has given way to sabotage. Their bodies twist frantically. As they fall, they reach for the nothing that is there to save them. Do they wonder what the ground will feel like when they hit it? What a pointless last thought. They die in the air, the descent killing them before the impact of the fall. Each body snaps against the decals of a roaring lion pride emblazoned on the concrete stage ring._

_The image of lion fangs are covered in the fresh blood of your parents. Some child in the audience notices the black humor and snorts in a knee jerk reaction. Your eyes were frozen until then. Now, they flash towards the reckless child._

_A observant man in a long, unbuttoned coat sits nearby the object of your derision. The large man watches you stare straight through the boy, piercing his heart and ripping it out with the force of your fury. The hush of the crowd turns into chaos. The man stands tall and you are forced to notice him._

_His eyes are coal black. You want to be enveloped by the darkness. You want to feel like you are living. Your wings have been clipped. You cannot fly. You cannot live. You wish you were dead._

_You cry, not caring that your painful wails unbalance you on your high perch. The man with the coal black eyes understands your suffering. He discards the long coat that would only get in his way and rolls up his sleeves. He climbs the long ladder and pulls himself to the top of your robin's nest. He holds you close as he brings you back to the ground._

_He pushes your red face into his shoulder, hiding you from seeing the up close sight of your parents bodies strewn in unnatural positions across the floor. They were flexible, but not that flexible._

_The hugging man tells you that his name is Bruce. You rub your tears into his breast and don't care what your snot stains._

_Bruce may protect you from seeing their misshapen bodies up close, but he cannot keep you from smelling their blood._

_You are alone. Your soul is shattered. You cannot repair the pieces. They are not coming to catch you as you fall into solitude and despair._

As Miss Martian drowns in Robin's suffering, the rest of Young Justice gather together from different corners of the crowd.

"Megan, what is wrong?" Aqualad remains calm despite the evident pain of his teammate. Her legs are weak. Superboy offers an arm for her to lean against. She shakes her head and motions with her eyes to Robin. The team follows her gaze and notices Robin's state.

Before, they thought he was deep in concentration, focusing on the mechanics of the holographic device. Now, they see his turmoil. He is broken. Kid Flash zooms off to Robin's side before anyone can react. Superboy, Aqualad, and Artemis turn to Miss Martian for answers.

"He's in pain...mentally. I...it hurts me...the intensity of his emotions...he is shouting in his mind," M'gann explains.

"Can you tell the source of his pain?" Aqualad asks.

Megan pauses. She could tell the source of his pain since she sees the memories as if she is reliving them. M'gann also remembers the way Robin's mind fled into hiding when he first let out a memory by accident...the way he didn't want her to see his weakness.

"No. Aqualad, I'm sorry, but I have no idea why he is in so much pain. He's a mystery," she says with conviction.

She floats into the sky and watches the dying embers of the fire. As she flies herself out of mental range with Robin, she finds one last outpouring of emotion from his aching mind.

"Powerlessness," she names his emotion to the empty horizon and draws her booted feet close to her chest.


	3. Fighting Your Own Battles

Miss Martian floats away sullenly and hides her body among the clouds in the fading darkness of the night. Soon, a lengthy debate between Aqualad and Artemis begins. Artemis demands to call M'gann back down over the comm system in order to press her harder about Robin. Aqualad wants to leave her alone.

Their dispute drones on in Superboy's ears. Artemis' voice is sharp and penetrating while Kaldur's is smooth and distinct. Artemis turns to Superboy as he fights off the vertigo from their mismatched tones.

"What is your take on this?" she asks with one hand atop her hip and the other pointed towards Robin.

The wind nips at his ears but Superboy doesn't feel the cold. He can't feel anything so simple. His powers make that near impossible.

His cool blue eyes fall on Robin. Superboy sees him tremble. Superboy guesses that the other boy's involuntary shivers are not from the cold.

"I...I don't know," Conner lets out wearily. He brushes a hand over the tip of his ear as if it is frostbitten. He watches the redheaded boy yards away speak in hushed whispers to their youngest team member.

Artemis resignedly gives up on convincing Conner to choose a side. She exhales deeply and returns to arguing with the team leader while Conner's attention stays focused on Robin.

Superboy doesn't mean to stare but his gaze is drawn to the small form of his friend as he pushes away the attentions of his other teammate.

Wally tries to hold Robin together by holding him close. The smaller boy's squirming turns into frustrated tossing and, finally, hopeless pounding against the bright yellow and red insignia on Wally's chest.

Superboy doesn't mean to listen in but his ears are drawn to the raw voice of his friend.

"I'm fine," Robin insists. "I don't need your help."

Conner's gut twinges with inner turmoil. He has said those very words himself before, in some of his worst moments. Conner knows a lie when he hears one. Robin needs help.

Conner wants to help more than anything else in the world. He wants to disprove the scientists who created him as a living weapon. He wants to walk out from underneath the shadow of his...genetic donor. He needs to have a purpose. He needs to help his friends.

Superboy doesn't look away from Robin.

Conner hears the sharp breaths of M'gann from her distant position in the sky as she holds her body tightly into ball. Superboy draws his hands into fists in order to feel the power within him. Is it within his power to help his friends now?

His power? No. These are Superman's powers. Conner is just an imperfect recreation.

The citizens of the world stop and shout with waves and smiles whenever Superman flies by.

_"God, I wish I could be like him," they think as they look to their hero. "I wish I could do the things he can do."_

Meanwhile, Superboy is stopped every other day by a frowning civilian who pauses within the flames of the fire that might consume them both to ask the same two questions.

_"Why can't you use all of his powers to save me?" the civilian asks. "Don't you wish you could do the things he does?"_

The majority of those who never ask him such questions are unconscious.

Superboy never responds. He acts like a proper hero and doesn't lash out at their barbed tongues. He cannot and will not show how the words he hears sting. He will keep his ears pried open to the world around him even through the pain.

Conner knows that these awestruck crowds who follow Superman simply do not understand. No one can understand what it feels like to have Superman's powers besides Conner and Superman himself. Every hero worshiper just doesn't see the truth, too blinded by their dreams of escaping the twin demons of uncertainty and powerlessness.

Many people make the assumption that Superboy wishes he had more of the abilities of the man he was created in the image of. On the bad days, Superboy desperately wants to have those powers. Superboy, on worse days, finds that this assumption is wrong.

It only took Superboy his first few clearheaded moments to realize that his extra-normal abilities may be more of a burden than they're worth. He easily noticed that his powers, instead of solving his problems, only intensified them.

No one can know what it feels like to fear their own strength in a fragile world. The intensity of his rage at the world for being so easily broken is channeled only through fighting the powerful who can withstand the magnitude of his force.

Why do so many people who are so strong break so easily under his grasp?

Conner fears harming those he cares for and even those he doesn't know. One false move is all it takes; one misjudgment of power and suddenly he will have proved right Cadmus, Superman, and everyone else who fears his stolen eyes and face and body.

_"Superboy is the weaker one," they say. "He is here for destruction. Superboy is worthless. He belongs no where."_

He belongs here with this team of heroes. These heroes are his saviors; without Wally, Kaldur and Robin, he would have never seen the soft beams of a full moon, faced a day without an invaded mind, or made his own life.

These heroes are his friends and family as well as his home. Conner has a need to honor his friends by proving to them that he's worth their time and effort. This desire is what he relies on for the strength to face each day while the moon returns to fill up the cracks in his heart so that he can face each night.

No one can fathom the way Conner detests his microscopic-vision. He sees the slight twitch of a smile lacking sincerity. He notices the hidden and discolored bruises beneath a teammate's makeup. He finds the lack of visual hesitation when a man turns away, unable to stand the sight of him.

No one can relate to how Conner hates his super-hearing. He hates screams that rip from a throat before a body succumbs to its burns. He hates the chink and gurgle of a bullet as it ruptures a major artery. He hates the sobs of a friend who doesn't know anyone can hear him after he hides his tear-stained face beneath a pile of pillows.

Superboy clearly sees the pain that ransacks his youngest friend. He sees Wally's confused expression as he tries to comfort the boy. He hears his friend's words.

"Just leave me alone! I'm not the one hurting here," Robin says in a small voice, his words muffled into Wally's side.

"I don't understand a word you're saying, Rob. You have to calm down and try to think clearly." Wally plays with Robin's raven hair. "I really want to help," he whispers as he lightly pulls Robin's face from his lap, "but I can't do that when I don't understand what you're saying..."

Robin pushes away from Wally and wipes at the wetness around his eyes. He leaves behind tracks of long forgotten soot from his gloves as he does so.

"I just need," Robin takes another few steps away from his friend, "to be the hero here. I don't need your help. She needs mine."

Wally's eyes flash desperately. He shares the same need to help his friend as Conner.

"I still don't understand, Rob," Wally pleads.

"I fight my own battles," Robin grinds out. He looks down to his hands and finds two small fists.

Robin violently tugs off the dirty gloves. A finger gets caught by a clasp on his utility belt. Robin stands rigid as Wally grabs his hands and unhooks the fabric.

He tosses the gloves haphazardly to Kid Flash and rushes off.

Robin darts behind a patrol car, nearly ramming into Commissioner Gordon in his haste.

"Excuse me," he mutters. He comes to a stop as he realizes who he has bumped into.

"Pardon?" Gordon says with a frown.

"I'm sorry," Robin apologizes again. The commissioner finds the holographic device in his hands before the boy runs off again.

"What?" Gordon calls out once more to the caped boy. The hero doesn't reply; he refuses to lose his resolve even for Commissioner Gordon, his loyal friend.

When Robin stops before the ambulance where Mr. Dalca's orphaned daughter is, Conner knows he should stop looking. He should give his teammate, his friend who trusts him, some privacy...some alone time.

Conner is never alone with his vision and his hearing. He can only block out so much of what's around him. Right now he doesn't want to ignore what he sees and hears. He wants to help.

How can he help someone so strong without even knowing the cause of his pain?

Conner sees the shifting of Robin's expression. He sees the signs of hesitancy, those invisible tremors or spasms or flinches, as Robin attempts to compose himself.

There is a strong, dark hand grasping onto Superboy's shoulder. Conner feels the pressure as the hand squeezes in a gesture of reassurance. He follows the hand lengthwise until he meets the eyes of its owner. Kaldur squeezes once more before removing his hand.

"Superboy? Is there something wrong?" the leader asks. "Do you know what Robin is saying?"

"Did the Genomorphs teach you Romani?" Kid Flash questions him, having rejoined the group after Robin left him.

Conner realizes then why no one but him can understand the pain in Robin's words.

With super-hearing, he focuses on Robin's unsteady heart as it beats closely in time to the grieving girl who has lost her father. He wants to help.

Superboy fights his own battles. He manages. He grows stronger.

Who would Robin be if he was even stronger?

Conner turns to his teammates.

"I do not understand Romani," Conner states firmly. He folds his arms across his S-shield and stares evenly into each team member's eyes.

He finds Robin's gaze at last. Robin's eyes are two twin blue pools full of red strains and clear, salty droplets.

Conner knows that the hero worshipers are wrong; when it comes to the real problems, the ones that truly matter, he is just as powerless as anyone else.


	4. The Least I Can Do

**A/N:** In case this isn't clear, this chapter takes place at the same time as chapter three; it is a different perspective. The next parts after this will go further into the day. I will focus on the perspectives of Gordon and the orphan girl as well as Roy and then the last chapter will be a different scene with Roy and Robin in the aftermath of this day in Gotham.

* * *

><p>Small and quiet whispers breeze through Robin's mind as he flips the holographic device in his gloved fingers. He isn't glaring at it really. He should be glowering at it, rightly so, since this is the murder weapon of that man…the tool that stole a father from his daughter, but he isn't. He doesn't have the focus to realize what is in his hands.<p>

Dick is alone in his mind. He has blocked everything else out.

He has blocked out the burning eyes of Conner as he watches him closely. He has purposefully ignored the quick glances from Commissioner Gordon in between mad dashes around the crime scene. Most of all, he pretends the little girl doesn't exist.

Robin, if he were to hide in his mind, wouldn't have to turn around and face the truth. It's his fault. There's no way around it this time. He's older…not a circus brat….he's trained…not a civilian…he's a hero…not a victim. He should fight his own battles. He should fight for those that cannot fight for themselves. He should have been her hero. He should have stopped this all from happening.

He hears her even though he has tried to banish her into nonexistence, the calming breathing kanta Bruce has taught him proving useless for the first time. The little girl is crying. A different paramedic is holding her, although perhaps less closely as he is weary of the snot that covers the girl's first caretaker's jacket.

An icy chuckle flows through Dick's body. He suppresses the involuntary shaking as Conner's sad eyes still focus on his body. Dick can stop the trembling if he tries but he cannot block the thought which caused his pain in the first place: _Snot? How can anyone be worried about snot when there's so much blood so close?_

He smells the red puddle even though he's kept his distance. Bruce couldn't stop Dick from seeing this and smelling this. Robin should have known that preventing these tragedies is impossible.

If _Bruce_, amazing, courageous and emphatic Bruce, could not stop Dick's parents from falling to their death, couldn't chase their ghosts out of his ward's mind, couldn't make pools of blood smell like roses, then why would Robin have a chance. How can Robin do the impossible for this little girl?

Robin knows he must look so weak and pathetic right now. Morosely, he wonders if he ever truly looks strong with his silly and cheerful fabric flowing in the wind as he dodges a bullet that would rip apart his petite arms without warning.

Without warning a flush of silly, cheerful fabric pours into Robin's vision. Kid Flash grabs his friend and squeezes him tight.

"Are you okay, man?" Wally rubs his back as he hugs him. "I'm such an idiot. I should have…I mean…It's obvious this would upset you and I just didn't..."

Robin leans into the embrace. His nostrils fill up with the sticky smell of sweat that clings to the speedster's clothing and skin. A drop of sweat trickles across Wally's brow. Robin likes this stench.

He figures he likes the smell because sweat means taking action, trying with all your effort, and being able to help. It's a nice lie. Really, deep down, Robin likes the sweat's smell because it dulls the stench of blood.

He pushes away from Wally's hug; his twin fists use Wally's abs as a rebound board. His new distance from his friend cannot be more than half a dozen inches, but it's still distance and that's all that matters. Dick isn't being smothered by pity anymore.

Wally leans back on the balls of his feet. He opens his mouth to speak but says nothing. He growls suddenly and closes the distance between them.

"I want to help, Rob," Wally pleads. Robin's chin is tilted downwards against his chest.

Kid Flash leans his head down and attempts to look into Robin's hidden eyes. Wally wonders if Robin is crying beneath that mask. He could cry all he wanted and his friends would never know…

Wally grabs Robin by the wrist and pulls him back into a hug. Robin squirms in his arms and attempts to worm away but the older boy has speed on his side. Robin cannot make a movement to flee in any thing other than slow motion in Wally's eyes.

Dick hates this. Why is he always the one who without the power to make things better? Wally, brilliant, enthusiastic and hopeful Wally, made himself powerful. He thought about what he wanted and then he went for it; that's why Wally is the one holding Dick together in case he cracks like the piece of glass that he is.

Robin tries to toss Kid Flash's arms off of him, but Wally only hushes him and returns his arms around his friend. Dick wants to laugh at himself again. He pounds his hands helplessly against Wally's chest.

Maybe if he hits him hard enough Wally will feel the pain which Dick feels from having to be comforted. He hopes that if he beats harder on his friend's body, then that physical pain will translate every emotion he is feeling mentally to Wally.

Robin might give in now. He might pretend he doesn't care about what other people think or about responsibility but he was raised too well for such denial. His parents…his Bruce…his Alfred…his Wally and his Conner and his Kaldur and his Artemis and Megan and Roy…they expect more from him. And most importantly, he expects more from himself.

"I'm fine," Robin insists. His voice is raspy and he winces as he hears it. He forces out his words anyways. "I don't need your help," he tells Wally as well as Conner who he knows is listening in.

The redhead searches the smaller boy's eyes. He wets his lips and worries. He doesn't know if Dick is muttering in Romani to hurt him, to show that Wally could never understand what he is feeling, or if maybe this means something worse. Maybe Dick is really just that broken.

"Just leave me alone! I'm not the one hurting here," Robin whispers as Wally embraces him.

Wally wants to help. Wally know that nobody can help unless he gets Dick speaks his thoughts plainly. Wally wishes he didn't have to break this to his friend. Robin, when he learns he is speaking in his mother tongue by accident, will be embarrassed. Wally holds him closer and hopes he won't hide when he explains his problem.

"I don't understand a word you're saying, Rob. You have to calm down and try to think clearly." KF brushes his fingers through Dick's sweaty hair. "I really want to help but," he unearths Robin's face from his lap, "I can't do that when I don't understand what you're saying..."

Wally stresses the words 'understand' and 'saying' so that they ring in the hollow caverns of Dick's mind.

He hears what those words really mean and that scares him. He's afraid to talk. What will keep his next words from being so vulnerable and raw? What will stop him from using the speech which he calls his parents and not his own, having divorced himself from it in an attempt to forget the pain?

Dick doesn't care when Wally gasps as he pushes away from him. He doesn't care that his eyes water more as he wipes his dirty gloves across his lids.

"I just need," Robin pointedly takes more steps away from Wally as he speaks, "to be the hero here."

Robin doesn't know if his words are the right ones. If he is explaining properly or even in English, but he needs to say this all out loud. He needs to know he can admit the truth to himself and the world as long as all ears are open to hear.

"I don't need your help," Dick explains. He turns his head to face the little girl who sits in the medic's lap across the lot. "She needs mine."

Kid Flash doesn't follow Robin's eyes to the little girl. He is left confused and worried as he listens to Robin's foreign words. Wally doesn't know if he can help his best friend so he begins to beg him to help him understand.

"I fight my own battles," Robin replies slowly and forcefully to the other teen's concerns.

Robin looks to the fists which he used to beat against Wally's chest. He pulls off the dirty gloves but they get stuck on the clasp that wraps the broken holo-device to his belt.

He had forgotten that the murder weapon was still on his person. How could he forget something like that? What kind of hero is he?

His body stiffens as he holds in his self-loathing. He lets Wally unfasten his caught gloves without argument. Once Kid Flash has the gloves in his hands, Dick swirls on his boot and rushes away.

He isn't escaping his fears. He isn't fleeing his friend. He isn't running away from himself. He is heading towards the only person that can make him matter anymore. He is looking for the little girl. He will give her hope.

Lost in his thoughts, Robin clips Commissioner Gordon as he passes by.

"Excuse me," he mutters. He stops. The holo-device is still attached to his belt. He unclips it and holds it in his small, bare palms. It's evidence and he's holding it without gloves. He quickly panics and tosses it into Gordon's hand.

"Pardon?" Gordon says to the hero. Robin realizes he isn't speaking English but he doesn't have time to sort that out. He's needed somewhere else. _Someone else_ needs him.

"I'm sorry," Robin apologizes again. The commissioner finds the holographic device in his hands before the boy runs off again.

Robin vaguely hears the commissioner call out to him as he runs off. He doesn't slow his sprint. He's waited long enough.

Robin stops before the ambulance where Mr. Dalca's orphaned daughter is and starts a breathing kanta.

His last thought before he opens his raw throat to comfort her and his shaking arms to embrace her is: _I can help her now; at the very least, I must have the power to do that._

"Du' dera," he whispers as he holds her tight, "I'm so sorry, so very sorry."

Dick doesn't care that he starts crying before her.


End file.
